


Shallows

by underwcrlds



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Crush, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Comic Book Science, Complicated Relationships, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crying, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Dick Grayson Tries to Be a Good Older Sibling, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Gotham Academy, Gotham City is Terrible, Hurt Tim Drake, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Mild Smut, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Cheating, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Past Character Death, Past Sexual Assault, Protective Tim Drake, Resurrected Jason Todd, Sad, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Superheroes, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Has a Bad Time, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Needs Love, bruce wayne does his best, but maybe cheating, cass is ace, dick is bi, i posted here bc people steal my work and wattpad does nothing, jason is also gay, steph is gay, superhero duties, tam fox is there, tim cant communicate, tim doesnt know how feelings work, wayne tech
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwcrlds/pseuds/underwcrlds
Summary: The classic superhero love square with some good old fashioned angst and saving the world in between
Relationships: Tim Drake/Original Character(s), Tim Drake/Original Female Character(s), Tim Drake/Tam Fox, red robin/original character
Kudos: 4





	1. Blurb

[ keep passing me by ]

In daylight she was just another face, By night she shone so bright that everyone else glowed and he adored her for it.

( he waits for you )

In which a wallflower has some badass moves.

( he is the definition of beauty )

____

&

____

( she is the meaning of strength )

She was just one sea making up an ocean of many. That's how she preferred it. But at night she became someone else. Some ethereal creature of the night, standing watch over the helpless. Letting the wind toss her waves till she became something people wrote poetry about, a tempest of literary proportions. Little did she know, he'd fallen in love with her waters a long time ago. ( is the moon tired? ) Did she not see how much he adored her? Does the sun know how much it kills the moon to watch her from afar?

( the quiet is a powerful weapon )

How was it that his life could be so full of people but he could feel so alone? Maybe because his heart ached for another. For she walked in beauty like the night and yet he could not for the life of him, find the courage to tell her how he felt. Merely the thought of her rejection was more than he could bear. He wanted her too much too lose.

[ you were born to overflow ]

____


	2. Road to Hel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It just her luck to run into one of the very people she's trying to avoid

_____

YOU WONT FIND  
US IN THE BIBLE  
  


_____

**THE** malevolent glint of silver in the pale moonlight glanced off worn concrete. His hand left a dark trail of crimson on the grey textured surface, as he stumbled backwards down a narrow alleyway. The concrete bit at his skin as he scraped across it, but he hardly noticed, gaze fixed instead on the two figures approaching from the way he had just came. His breath came out in shaky gasps as he rushed to put as much distance between himself and his pursuers. His complexion pale, face grimy and his usually well groomed blond hair dirty and limp as it stuck to his forehead. His eyes, a deep brown, were wide and darting frantically around the alleyway.  
The glint of silver was that of the clean edge of a knife blade, one of which, flew past his head mere seconds later, easily slicing a deep cut into his skin as it grazed his cheek, making him cry out. This was soon followed by a yelp as his back hit the cool metal of a chainlink fence, signalling an end to the alley. A feeling of dread began to settle itself in the pit of his stomach.  
"No..." he murmured, turning to grip the metal and shake it rigorously. "No, no, no."  
His efforts only became more frantically as he began to realise the fruitlessness of his actions. At the sound of heavy footsteps, he turned to press himself against the metal. His pursuers were now close enough for him to get a good look at their features. One was a mountain of a man, broad and heavily built with dark shaggy hair that hung around his face in curtains and brushed the tops of his eyes which were small, dark and beady. He was dressed in a heavy leather jacket and dark fingerless gloves. Slightly behind him on his right side was a slim, athletic looking woman. Her long red hair was pulled into a tight ponytail on the crown of her head, her lips painted a deep, blood red, accentuating the malevolent smirk she was wearing. She was dressed in a tight fitting dress, petrol blue in colour, which showed off her long, toned legs and draped round her shoulders was an almost identical leather jacket to the one the man was wearing. In one hand she was daintily clutching a black leather purse, which she opened to remove her lipstick, which she proceeded to reapply in front of him. When she was finished, she placed it back in her purse and held open a pale hand expectantly in the man's direction. He complied, reaching inside his jacket to remove another sleek, silver blade which he then placed carefully in her hand. She retracted her hand to examine the dagger with disinterest as she slowly made her way forward towards the boy, her heels clacked every time they made contact with the pavement. That same malevolent smirk had returned to her features as she sauntered over, enjoying the way he squirmed with fear.  
"Stay still now," she purred, carefully tracing his jaw with the edge of her knife. She was suffocatingly close but he didn't dare move, fearful of the sharp sting of her knife blade. She smelt sickly sweet, like frangipani, so much so that it made his eyes water. He screwed his eyes shut, leaning away from the wicked silver weapon, making her tut. "Careful, it's sharp." she warned, grinning as she exonerated a hiss of pain from the boy, pressing a little to hard against his jaw, drawing a crimson droplet at the tip of the blade. Spurred on by the thrill, she pressed harder and he let out a blood-curdling scream, blood dribbling slowly down the metallic surface. She chuckled, finally relenting and bringing her hand up to her lips, sucking the blood from her finger. "To bad your daddy will pay a pretty penny for your life." she mused. "We'd have so much fun.. you're quite the screamer."

**THE** boy's knuckles were white as they clutched onto the chainlink for dear life. The blood from his chin had dribbled down his neck and begun to stain his already bloody, pale blue button-up shirt. The woman gave one last chuckle before turning on her heel.  
"Right, let's go." She said, motioning a circle in midair to the man. "We've been out here too long. And-" she glanced over her shoulder at the boy. "-as fun as it was. We can't have you running around Gotham can we? Don't you know the streets aren't safe?" she pouted, before breaking into a bout of laughter. The man prepared himself for a struggle that was presumably coming when he tried to force the blond boy into their awaiting van. Before he could take a step, something landed with a large thud, blocking his path. The man hesitated for a moment but gave a great guffaw when the newcomer straightened up, giving him an opportunity to size them up. She had a small frame, which was swathed completely in black fabric, all the way down to her fingerless gloves. The hood of her jacket was pulled up, drenching her face in shadow, he could just make out the outline of a dark mask encircling her eyes to further conceal her identity.  
"The fuck?" he chuckled. He had a grated, raspy quality to his voice, the kind that came from excessive cigarette use. "Don' tell me you wan' play hero, girlie?"  
The girl let out a sharp gasp, ducking out of the way as one of the red-haired woman's glinting silver daggers went sailing past her head.  
"You showed up just in time. I was hoping for a little birdie to play with but.." a wicked smile stretched across her features. "you'll do just fine."  
Without warning, the man lurched forwards, throwing a hefty punch in the girl's direction. She dodged, barely, and was quick to move the boy to one side, out of the way.  
She successfully blocked the man's next attack, his fist making contact with her forearm and it's jarring force causing her to wince slightly. He was strong. Really strong. He didn't fail to miss the look of pain that crossed her face, a wide grin appearing on his face, displaying what was left of his teeth, which were discoloured and badly yellowed.  
"Looks like you've bitten of more than you can chew, girlie." he guffawed. Not missing a beat, he saw her furious attempt to retaliate coming from a mile away, catching her arm in one fist. He squeezed, digging his fingernails painfully into her skin, exposed from where her sleeve had slipped down her arm. She cried out in pain and lashed out with her other hand, her own nails raking across his cheek. He promptly released his grip on her, his hand coming to strike her across the cheek with such a force that she fell to the pavement, her head ringing and her cheek stinging painfully. Ignoring these sensations, she scrambled back to her feet, the all too familiar metallic taste had returned to her mouth, informing her that she was bleeding once again. There was a terrific pounding in her head and she faced a small spell of dizziness as she stumbled, attempting to right herself as she straightened up. The fact that the man was no longer grinning provided her one small victory, but this was short lived, as he swung at her with renewed force. She barely dodged his first punch, pressing herself back against the chainlink to avoid his fist, before being caught in the ribs by the second which knocked the air out of her lungs with a terrific "umph!" and returned her to the pavement. She doubled over, hand slipping down the metal as she struggled to get up, clutching her torso and sucking in vast amounts of air in an attempt to catch her breath. The man leered over her, enjoying watching her struggle. He spat at her. "Pathetic."  
Something crossed her face at that and she was finally able to clamber to her feet with the help of the chainlink fence.  
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" he muttered, clearly unimpressed as he watched her heave her fists up.  
"I could do this all day." she breathed. This time when he lunged at her, she was ready. Before he even knew what was happening, she had ducked under his arm and twisted it behind his back. She brought her knee to his back and the man screamed as an unmistakeable "pop" sounded through the air.  
"You little bitch!" his fist collided with the side of her head, sending her flying into the concrete wall beside her, where she slumped to the ground.   
  


**THE** red-headed woman sighed as she watched the man withe in pain, cradling his arm to his chest.  
"Oh stop blubbering, you idiot!" She snapped. When he didn't cease his screaming, she reopened her clutch, removing a small pistol. The loud gunshot that followed made the blonde boy in the corner jump from his previously frozen state. There was a thud as the man keeled over onto the pavement, the fresh wound in his forehead already oozing blood.  
She huffed, returning the gun to her purse and turning her attention back to the girl who was clutching her head as she kneeled on the pavement, lent against the concrete wall. The woman twirled the ring of her last dagger around her finger as she prepared to strike. With incredible accuracy, she let the blade fly, grinning maliciously as she followed its path through the air. Her grin faltered, however, as, with a 'chink', red metal collided with the dagger, effectively grounding it. The woman let out a growl of annoyance. "I was hoping you'd show up, boy wonder." she declared, scanning the rooftops for any sign of the batclan. Behind her, the girl was slowly, painfully getting to her feet and trying to dispel the ringing in her ears. "Come on, don't be shy. I don't bite...mostly." she let out a cackle at that. "Aw, don't tell me you're scared of little old me, now are we?" she cooed.

 **"NOT LIKELY."**  
The woman whipped around, to find Gotham's own, Red Robin, leaning against the concrete, arms crossed over his chest. "Just had more important people to deal with tonight than you and some buffoon." He shrugged. "You get how it is. Sorry to keep you waiting."  
She glared. "Leave the humour to Nightwing, hero. He's better at it than you are."  
"So I've been told." He pushed of the wall, stepping out into the light and towards the red-headed woman, bo staff extending in one hand as he did so. The smirk had returned to the woman's face and she tutted.  
"Sorry, I have.. other plans." she purred. "but don't you worry, I brought some friends of mine to keep you busy."  
She'd barely even finished speaking when another van parked itself at the end of the alley, tires screeching as it did so.

Not good.

"Until, next time." She declared, turning on her heel and stalking back down the alley toward the van as the doors opened and a handful of burly, leather-clad men piled out. Robin was left glaring after her and preparing himself for the coming fight. He glanced at the mysterious, hooded girl who was now on her feet but using one hand to brace herself against the wall.  
"Stay down." He warned, catching the determined way she clenched her jaw.  
"Fat chance." She retorted, pushing off the wall and stumbling a little before getting the hang of her balance again. "This was my fight, I'm going to finish it. You can't stop me." she retorted a matter-of-factly. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her. Meanwhile, the girl was furious. This was just what she needed, one of the batclan! Not. This might be his specially, but this was her fight and he had no right to come in and capitalise on all her hard work. She was not going to give this up so easily. Shouldering past him, she launched for the first guy, surprising him, but not for long. He threw a huge punch that sent her flying back into the scarlet vigilante, who instinctually steadied her. She shrugged him off her. "I don't need your help." she growled in annoyance. He promptly released her and she stumbled away from him clumsily.  
"you're welcome." he muttered. She was going to get herself killed. Slurring forward again, though slower and slightly off balance this time, she made for the large man again. Making the boy shake his head. Fine, he couldn't say he hadn't tried. Turning his attention away from the girl and onto the other men who had gathered, watching the girl with decreasing interest as they turned their attention to the scarlet vigilante, who steadied his bo staff, ready for the fight. A tall, well muscled man made for him first, but the boy dodged his punch, using his force against him to throw him into the wall. There was a large, sickening thud as the man met the cement, where he lay, unmoving. He steadied himself into a crouch as he watch his second opponents approach. This one was smaller and weedier than the first but, as the boy soon found when the man dodged a sweeping blow from his bo staff, a lot faster than his predecessor. The man smirked, moving farther forward, ready to engage in further combat. The boy grit his teeth, waiting for his opponent to move first. The man kicked out, catching the scarlet hero off guard as he grunted slightly, jumping back and out of the way. He swung with his staff again but this time the man was already dodging, kicking it out of the boy's grip as he did so. The boy let out a growl of annoyance. This girl had his mind reeling; making him distracted, he needed to focus. Pleased with himself, the man moved forward to attack but his confidence had made him sloppy, the vigilante's leg caught the man's side and throwing him against the wall of the alley with a large crack. 

Two down. One to go.

 **LOCKED** in combat with the man opposite him, who turned out to be a lot smarter than he looked. The man caught the boy's punch and swept his feet out from beneath him, causing the boy to groan slightly as he hit the pavement with a thud, the air knocked out of his lungs. The man leered triumphantly above him but before either of them had time to decide their next move, there was a loud crack from above him and his combatant crumbled. The boy looked up in surprise to see the hooded girl from before was wielding his bo staff as she faced off with the same large man from earlier. Sweeping the man's feet from beneath him with the staff, he fell to the ground with a terrific thump, the boy watched as she brought the end of the weapon against the side of the man's head head with another loud crack.

Holy shit.

He scrambled to his feet, catching the bo staff as she tossed it back in his direction without a second glance.  
"Thanks," he murmured. She didn't reply, but he watched as she crouched down beside her, unconscious, attacker as she pulled out a pair of blue latex gloves from her back pocket. She then proceeded to cut off a lock of the man's hair to place in a clear glass vial. "I hope that's not for a polyjuice potion."  
She sent a glare in his direction. "You know I was doing perfectly fine on my own."  
"If it hadn't been for me, you'd be dead." He retorted.  
"You don't know that." She snapped before taking a deep breath as she pulled her hood back over her head. "Look. Thanks for you're help but I'm fine on my own."  
"Clearly." he muttered.  
The hood didn't reply, making her way to check if the blonde boy was alright. The girl vaguely recognised the victim from her school but that didn't account for much, anyone who was anyone went to Gotham Academy. Seeing he was fine, she stood quickly and turned to leave.  
"I'll let boy wonder handle the rest of this." She muttered darkly. She could hear the faint noise of police sirens drawing closer and to be honest, she couldn't really care less for the whole situation. It wasn't really her style. Saving rich kids from kidnappings, high profile stuff, organised crime? No thank you. 

**"HEY _!_ "** She turned sharply as he caught her arm, tugging her back to face him and causing her hood to fall from her head. This was the first time she had ever had a good look at him. He was taller than she was and well defined, but not overly so, more thin and lithe than anything. His suit clung tightly to his body and the dark cowl covered both his hair and half his face from view, his eyes were nothing more than white and expressionless. He made her uneasy. She could, however, see enough to know he was frowning at her. She watched as his expression softened. "Are you hurt?"  
Furious, she crossed her hands over her chest defiantly as she shot him a glare. "I don't need your help." She spat. This was her first encounter with any of the Batclan and she had no intention to prolong it. Besides, who was he to ask her how she was? What did he care?  
She didn't have time for this. She had more important matters to attend to, like figuring out who hired these guys.  
Before the boy could say anything more she had successfully escaped his grasp and made her retreat up the side of a nearby building just as several police cars pulled up. The boy sighed exasperatedly, but let her go, his work wasn't over yet.


	3. Chapter 3

_____  
  
COME AS  
YOU ARE  
_____

TIMOTHY DRAKE wasn't one to chase after people. The very nature of his double life didn't allow for such frivolities. Annalise Castellan, however, was a different matter altogether. She was an enigma and if there was one thing Tim couldn't resist, it was a good mystery. Maybe that was his problem, he'd never before tangled curiosity with attraction in such a way. Still, there was no denying how easily she could make his heart swell, a fact which terrified him beyond belief. Although it wasn't as if such feelings were completely alien to the teen. He wasn't new to the world of teenage romance. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any easier to navigate. Annalise, Tim noted, had always been painfully shy, which is perhaps what made Tim so anxious around her. As if one wrong move would result in her never speaking to him again and, if he was honest, Tim wasn't sure he could cope with that. Besides, Tim knew that it didn't end well for anyone he got close to. He was pretty sure he'd seen everyone he'd ever cared about die at least once. The fact he was always rushing off somewhere without a good explanation didn't do him any favours either. Tim couldn't really blame them, if someone bailed as much as he did he'd probably leave too. However, all that didn't stop the flutter of his heart every time he passed her in the hall.

SO HERE he was, sat at the back of his AP World History class, stealing glances across the room where the brunette sat by the window, cheek squished up against her fist as she scribbled notes in her exercise book. Today her hair was hastily pulled into a messy bun and Tim watched as she absentmindedly coiled a couple of flyaways around the end of a pencil. By the blackboard at the front of the classroom, their teacher, a small man with an affinity for chunky woollen sweaters, was explaining the conventions of 16th century France. Tim's gaze moved off the blackboard and back onto Annalise. Her warm olive complexion glowed pale under the light from outside. It was cloudy, which was usual for Gotham, and Tim admired the way wind danced through the trees for a moment. His attention shifted however, when Annalise turned her head to glance at the clock situated high on the right of the room. Despite how well she may have covered it, the angle meant the light perfectly illuminated the raised area on her jaw. Tim frowned as she turned back to her paper. That was a bruise if he ever saw one, and it looked nasty too. His mind swirled with possibilities. If there was one thing Tim was good at, it was thinking, which was both a blessing and a curse. He too often knew the frightening prison of his own thoughts.

"Mister Wayne."

It took Tim a beat before he realised he was being spoken to and he glanced upward sheepishly to meet his teacher's bespectacled gaze. "Sorry, Sir?"

"The assignment sheets. If you would mind returning to us and handing them out to the class."

Tim flushed gently and rose from his seat whilst several of his classmates concealed snickers. It wasn't that Tim was disliked among his peers, much the opposite. However, his studious reputation proceeded him and the tendency for his mind to slip to more important matters in class always brought some form of laughter. Tim's teacher fixed him with a stern gaze as he handed over the pile of papers to Tim. "I expect better from you Mister Wayne."

Tim mumbled out some sort of apology as he turned back towards the class to weave his way through the rows of desks.The papers were cool to the touch and he received scattered mumbles of thanks from his classmates as he passed. He was acutely aware of the fact he was drawing steadily closer to Annalise's desk. He shot a quick glance her way but she was too absorbed in whatever she was writing in her book to notice. Tim could still make out the faint area of bruising now that he knew where to look. His brow furrowed, as it often did when he was approached with a puzzle, and he was determined to get a better look at the area when he reached her. However he was so focused in the examination of her bruise that the paper missed her desk and flew toward the floor. Tim clumsily fumbled for it but it continued to keel out of his grasp and instead hit the glossy linoleum floor. This was shortly followed by the hollow metal clunk of Annalise's water bottle, which Tim had knocked from her desk in his frenzy. The sound echoed loud in the still silence of the classroom, making Annalise and the rest of the class glance up. A few snickers broke out and Tim's cheeks reddened furiously as he collected the paper and the bottle for her, mumbling apologies as he did so. When he straightened up, he noticed her cheeks had reddened from embarrassment and he felt his heart sink, his voice falling flat halfway through his sentence. He barely caught her soft murmur of thanks, before he was scrambling away back to his seat at the far back of the class. Tim's heart had sunk, sure he'd blown his chance to ask her about the strange bruise. He had wound himself into such a frenzy that he was convinced she'd be avoiding him for all of eternity. The obliviousness of his friends as they gleefully celebrated being grouped together, didn't help matters. The shrill chime of the school bell rang out, leading to a flurry of noise as the class scrambled for their things.   
  
  
  
  


______

IT HITS YOU  
HARD & LEAVES   
S L O W   
______  
  


Lee let out a loud snort as, beside her, Parker slipped slightly on the wet pavement. The boy sent his girlfriend and exasperated look as he straightened up. The couple wandered a few steps ahead of Annalise, who shrugged the straps of her backpack further up her shoulders. Anna didn't mind the new addition to their group, Lee's distraction with Parker at least meant Anna didn't feel so guilty every time she flaked. From behind her, Beni's constant stream of accented chatter was occasionally broken by perfect french and hushed laughter from Gray, whose tall form huddled beside him. Annalise didn't mind walking alone between the two pairs, it gave her time to think. It wasn't unusual for a frown to encapsulate her features, usually an indication she had a certain dark-haired, rich kid on the brain. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Her new world history partner. For years she'd work her ass off for finals, just to watch a half-awake Drake wander in reeking of coffee and finish early. Getting her results, only to find Drake bumping her off first place. Every single time. Thankfully, she'd never had much to do with him. Until now.

Lee's grin dropped as she turned to see Annalise's expression, dropping back to join her.

"Wayne on the brain?" she probed, raising an eyebrow.

Annalise huffed, she knew her too well. "He knocked my water bottle over in class today you know."

Lee rolled her eyes. "On purpose?" She asked flatly, clearly she already knew the answer.

"It could have been." Annalise retorted defensively as Lee fixed her with a pointed look.

"I don't get what your problem is with him." Lee said bluntly, obviously over this discussion already. Annalise tried her best not to make a face. Of course she didn't. Anyone who was anyone in Gotham sent their kids to Gotham Academy and Lee was no exception. Her father had sold his software for millions and her mother's paintings sold for similarly ridiculous prices. If Lee flunked out, no doubt her parents could buy her a place in Yale if they wanted.

That wasn't Anna. Gotham's tuition alone was 60 percent of her single fathers wage. So Anna was there on scholarship, which made her feel slightly out of place amongst all the wealth of her peers. Even her friends didn't seem to understand that it wasn't just giving free rides to whoever, there were conditions. Besides, this wasn't just about maintaining her scholarship, it was about getting one for college. This was something Drake didn't seem bothered with. After all, he was about to be handed Wayne Enterprises on a silver platter for merely existing.

The finally reached Tina's, it was a cozy little cafe a short walk from the academy and their regular study haunt. It was close enough that they were safe to walk there themselves after school given they didn't finish too late. Tina's uncle, Carmelo, owned a restaurant across the street which was usually where they'd spend their Friday nights, gossiping and eating pizza until their parents began looking for them. Tina was on the shorter side and nearing middle age, occasional grey strands flecked her dark hair. Every time Anna saw her she seemed weary and drained, but nonetheless always greeted them with a smile. All five of them crowded the rounded table in the corner where one end was circled by the fraying, worn cushions of a c-shaped booth.


End file.
